


Floating

by abbeyjewel



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Dissociation, M/M, Past Mind Control, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 11:03:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2579249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbeyjewel/pseuds/abbeyjewel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Bucky doesn't want to recover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Floating

He didn’t know how it happened. He had been looking in the mirror to neatly pull his hair back into a ponytail, and the next thing he knew he was gone. 

Floating.

Far away. 

His therapists called it dissociation. It was a coping mechanism, for whenever his mind had too much to handle. He did it a lot. Less and less as his recovery-- that’s what Steve called it, Steve and the therapists-- went on. He was getting better. But it still happened, and Bucky wasn’t sure if he wanted it to stop. The floating was rather nice. 

What wasn’t nice was coming back to himself. Sometimes it would be minutes, hours, days. One minute he’d be in the house, sunshine pouring in through the large sitting room windows, and the next he’d be outside in the pouring rain, with shopping bags in his arms and no idea where he was or how he got there. It was jarring and unsettling and he _hated it._

Sometimes he wished he could just float forever. Never go back to his body, never go back to the jarring unpleasantness of reality. But that would mean losing Steve. _Stevie._ He couldn’t do that. Steve was his life, his world. He was the sunshine that melted shadows away. 

Steve would be sad if Bucky told him he wanted to stay like this, dissociated and far away. Steve always smiled, even when he was sad, especially when he was sad. His sad smile was different that the beaming happiness that Bucky loved to soak in. Bucky would do anything to never let Steve smile that way ever again. Steve’s happy smile was why Bucky wanted to stay. He could stay if it was just Steve, his arms, and those brilliant smiles. 

Life was more than just Steve though. It was memories; the war, the torture, the murder he committed. It was other people; their questions, their judgements, their expectations. It was everything else _but_ Steve that Bucky didn’t want. 

_....tower. It’s the year 2014, and you’re with me. It’s Steve. Bucky?..._

Steve’s voice. Bucky didn’t know how long he had been out, dissociated, but it was long enough to worry Steve. And now Steve was there, in front of him, slowly coming into focus. He could feel Steve’s arms on his, firm but not tight. He could see the worry in Steve’s face and it only made him want to slip back away. He forced himself back, though, for Steve. 

“M’here.” He murmured, reaching up to smooth the worry from Steve’s face. His right hand, the flesh and bone hand, was shaking slightly but he forced it still. “I’m okay Stevie, don’t worry ‘bout me.” He forced out a smile but the worry didn’t leave Steve’s face. 

“You’re crying, Buck.” His hand reached out, slow enough so Bucky could pull away, but Bucky never did, never from Steve. His hand came back wet and Bucky blinked down at it. Had he cried when he dissociated before? He couldn’t remember. There was a lot he couldn’t remember. 

“I don’t… I don’t know why.” Bucky didn’t want to know why. Didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to change the subject and not have to deal with painful things. He shoved his hair back from his face, it had fallen in his eyes and in the way again, but he couldn’t bear to cut it. 

“Let me,” The concern hadn’t bled from Steve’s face, but he was good like that, changed the subject when Bucky didn’t want to think about it. Eventually he’d make Bucky talk, but not right now. That was all Bucky could ask for. 

Steve picked up a hair-tie from the counter-- Bucky had several that he’d swiped from Nat-- and turned Bucky slightly so that he could get a better angle on his hair. Bucky moved, pliant as always. Steve carefully pulled the hair back and together, smoothing it gently before fixing the tie in place. 

Bucky leaned forward and pressed his face into Steve’s chest. In Steve’s arms, he felt almost as safe as when he was floating. He was in actuality, probably safer. He wouldn’t wake up in strange places wrapped up in Steve’s arms. 

He’d only wake up there, warm and protected.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
